


Zombies Shouldn't Get the Flu

by Trefoil_9



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Bonding over the Darksign, Chicken Soup, Childhood Friends, Disney Songs, Fever, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, It's a fluffy friendshippy sickfic which features Solaire singing karaoke I do what I want, Karaoke, Mild Language, Modern Era, Oscar is a Marine (roughly equal to elite knight??), Platonic Relationships, Rated PG for Language and P8-Cr8 Assholery, Sick Fic, Sickfic, Slightly emo Oscar, Solaire is the mom friend, Solaire is vegan, annoying neighbors, don't question why Pate and Creighton are in with characters from 1, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trefoil_9/pseuds/Trefoil_9
Summary: Oscar shows up at Solaire's apartment-warming party with a temperature of 103 and a secret he needs to share. He ends up crashing in Solaire's apartment for a few days while he stops dying and starts to get his life together. Solaire is as supportive as only a true Sunbro can be. The horrible trash men that live down the hall try to murder each other in the hallway. Good times.





	1. THE SUN GOES DOWN / STARS SHINING AS YOUR BONES ILLUMINATE / AHRK FIN NOROK PAAL GRAAN FOD NUST HON ZINDRO ZAAN, DOVAHKIIN, FAH HIN KOHAAN MU DRAAL!

Oscar stood outside the door trying to convince himself to leave. He could hear the music thudding through the door, overlaid with a chatter of people talking. Ironically, it sounded like Glad You Came was playing, but he did not consider it a sign. He’d knocked twice, probably not loud enough to be heard, and he felt terrible. He looked over his shoulder, down the hallway to the elevator and wondered if it was still raining outside. His coat was dripping steadily onto the carpet but the water was pleasantly cool on his face. He was pretty sure he was developing a fever.

He could try texting Solaire that he was there, but Solaire had a tendency to forget his phone existed when he was around people and hadn’t answered anything in the last few hours. Besides, he felt groggy and grouchy and not like he wanted to see people. The only thing that deterred him from leaving was the thought that he’d come here specifically to be present at the party because Solaire had asked him and if he left it would be a wasted trip. Not completely wasted, he could probably meet up with his friend later, but still. He’d already texted Solaire. He’d see it eventually and wonder why he hadn’t showed up after all. Oscar had already told him he probably wouldn’t be coming, months ago; earlier in the day he’d changed his mind and he didn’t want to change it again. He steadied himself and raised his hand to knock a third time. The door flew out from under his knuckles.

“Oscar!”

It took him a few moments to focus on the tall man filling the doorway in front of him, but when he had, he smiled. Solaire looked the same as always, in cutoff shorts and flip-flops, his gold hair swept back into a ponytail. He didn’t have long to look at him because as soon as Solaire recovered from his surprise he swept Oscar into a crushing bear hug. Oscar grumbled in mock dismay; not in genuine discomfort so much as because he was in the habit of complaining about Solaire’s rib-crushing gestures of affection.

“Hey Sunny,” he said, patting Solaire twice on the back. Solaire released him and held him back to look at him. His bright grin faded a little in concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I... sorry, I was kind of zoned out for a sec. I think I’m getting sick.” Oscar smiled dryly. “You know me.”

“Oh no! You look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean, do you need to go rest? Should you be here?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Maybe not my most talkative, but I didn’t want to miss this.”

“Good, good. Come in, can I take that?” Solaire took his wet raincoat, shook it and hung it up. Under it Oscar was wearing civilian clothes, dark grey pants and a deep blue shirt embellished with the crest of a brewery near his hometown in faded gold.  “I’m glad you get to see the place,” Solaire said confidentially, turning towards Oscar and lowering his voice a little. “It’s a nice apartment, I like it a lot, but, you know. I might not get to stay here much longer.”

Oscar nodded. Solaire had told him when he received the Darksign. He appeared to think of it as a blessing, granting him access to the fabled land of Lordran, but Oscar wasn’t so sure. With things the way they were it was surprising that his friend hadn’t been identified and shipped off to the Asylum yet. And if he did make the journey to Lordran, what dangers would he find? From what Oscar had heard, the place had become like another Asylum, crawling with the hollowed remains of previous seekers. The land was empty of answers and stained with blood.

Unless the legends of the bell were true. But in that case why had no one rung it yet?

Oscar looked across Solaire’s living room, where the apartment-warming party was in full swing; he could see at least thirty people at his first glance, and the lights and movement jammed in his head. He closed his eyes and then tried to focus on something closer to him. Solaire’s shirt. It had a picture of the sun and the words “420 Praise It.” Oscar snorted, and Solaire struck a stance, making jazz hands at himself.

“Aaaeeyyyy! Like the shirt? I made it myself! Can I make you one?”

Oscar chuckled. “No thanks. Looks rad though.—How do you even know this many people?”

“Ahhh, the arcane mysteries of the extrovert. I doubt you’ll ever be able to understand my secrets.” he leaned closer to Oscar and winked. “I talk to people. You should try it sometime.” Oscar gave him what was supposed to be a steely glare but probably ended up as a mildly peevish wince of discomfort, since Solaire straightened and gave him another concerned look. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” Oscar ran a hand across his jaw, suddenly unable to remember if he’d shaved that day. He had, and his hair was too short to really look bad no matter what he did to it, but he knew without looking that he was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. As he followed Solaire into the living room, he clutched at his chest. The heat of the Darksign seeped through his shirt and into his fingers.

So far the Marines hadn’t been ordered into the Undead debacle, but other sections of the armed forces had been, and he’d spent most of his deployment on a ship exchanging horror stories. SWAT teams being called into “infected” neighborhoods to round up peaceful Undead who showed no signs of hollowing. Friends in the national guard ordered to separate children from their parents. And then the stories about the Asylum itself, that the prisoners were never fed, but were locked into cells and abandoned to go hollow. That there were other things locked into the place with them, beings too powerful to be easily done away with in more conventional ways—the abominations which most simply referred to as demons. These simply wrenched the doors of their cells off the hinges and wandered where they pleased, killing anything in their path.

The music changed to a new song, and Oscar winced as the sharp bass thudded through his skull.

**BOOM CLAP THE SOUND OF MY HEART THE BEAT GOES ON-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NANNA**

Looking across the room, he caught Solaire’s eye. His hand was on the volume of the speakers, which he’d just cranked up about five clicks, and he was beaming maniacally over the crowd of people. When he saw Oscar’s face his look shifted to one of concern. Oscar forced his face into a stiff smile and gave him a thumbs up, then walked towards the drink table, mostly for the sake of looking like he was doing something other than being a wallflower.

Solaire cranked the volume back down by two clicks and leapt over a table to insert himself into a nearby conversation.

Oscar gazed at the drink table, trying to keep his eyes from going out of focus. There was some sort of punch that looked like it was made of Sunny D and sherbet, there was Sunny D by itself, the usual cross-section of sodas, water, and a large pitcher of homemade kombucha. Oscar poured himself half a glass to taste so he could honestly compliment Solaire on it later. Solaire made his own kombucha.

He tried to mingle. He ended up in a circle of chatting people who all knew each other, introduced himself and then mostly spaced out while they talked to each other. When the circle started to break up he found an isolated spot near the wall and stood there, trying to decide if it would be worse to stay or to leave. If he left he’d have to walk back to the hotel. If he stayed he’d have to be social, and he felt like lying down on the floor. The room was fading out of focus. He glanced down at his drink and thought with surprise that the music had gotten so loud that it was sending ripples through the remaining kombucha, then he realized that it was his hand shaking. He braced his wrist with his other hand. The ripples decreased slightly.

“Are you doing okay?”

Solaire had appeared out of nowhere. Oscar jumped as his hand landed on his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, hi.”

Solaire, frowning, felt his arm through his sleeve. “You feel really hot—may I?” he brushed Oscar’s hair back and touched his palm to his forehead. Solaire’s hand felt cooler than it reasonably should to him, the air conditioning wasn’t that cold and Solaire did not have a tendency to have cold hands. Whoop, great news, he was definitely coming down with something nasty. “Oh, you definitely have a fever.”

“Yeah, I think I might have to go.”

“Are you sure? Do you want to lie down for a bit first?”

For roughly .005 seconds, Oscar considered saving his pride and refusing, but quickly decided that nothing in the world sounded better than taking a rest right now. If he turned the offer down he’d probably fall asleep on a park bench on the way back or something equally stupid.

“That would be great, actually. Thanks so much.”

Solaire took his arm and towed him across the lunatic activity of the room, then opened a door and entered a darker, quieter room. Moonlight lay in strips on the floor. Oscar felt better just getting out of the light. The noise was only slightly muffled by the wall, but he wasn’t particular at the moment. He kicked off his shoes and curled up on Solaire’s bed, noticing on the way down that there was a framed mosaic of the sun hung at its head. He smiled.

“Comfortable?” said Solaire.

“Very. Thank you,” said Oscar. “I might just take a nap, I’ll probably feel better after that.”

“Alright. I’m sorry about the noise—”

“No, dude, it’s your party, I don’t care. Honestly I’m so tired it doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, if you’re sure—”

“Solaire. I’m cool, this is great. Thank you. Now go back to your guests.”

“Okay!” Solaire sprang to the door but then stopped. “Remind me to show you around when you wake up, you weren’t here for the tour and I really had fun with decorating this place!”

“Cool.” Were there _more_ suns sprinkled throughout the decor of the house, Oscar wondered? He rather liked to think that there were, it meant Solaire was still good old Solaire, staying true to his incandescent ideals.

Oddly enough—it was his last thought as he fell asleep—he felt like he had a sun inside him, warm and glowing, heat radiating from his skin.

Dreamily, some time later, he was aware that the music that was now blaring was the Dovahkiin song from Skyrim. He woke just enough to mumble a sleepy “wut” to himself, then dropped off again.

A dream-memory. He was hunting with his brother and his uncle—they were off in their own stand, he was by himself, on the ridge where the old summerhouse was. He had his sights trained on a young doe which almost seemed to shine in the predawn light. She stepped lightly through the lightly swaying deep grass, like a cloud drifting among dark waves. Far off, from somewhere deep in the trees, he heard two shots close together, then a third. He watched the doe raise her head in alarm, then flick her tail, turn, and bound into the trees. He followed her shining body in his sights until she was swallowed up by blackness. Then for a long time he gazed into it. He felt that somewhere, beyond the void which seemed to open beneath the trees, there was a door that led out of the realms of waking into a world of dream.

His next sensation was of a cold greyness and falling from a great height. He woke with a gasp and realized that Solaire was shaking him. “Sorry,” he said.  

“Do I need to go?”

“No no! I was going to offer you an aspirin but I don’t actually have any. Are you alright?”

“Uhuhh. What time is it?” he was still only half-awake.

“Late. Do you want to stay here?”

“...Yeah.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“Nah.”

“OK, can you scoot over a bit?”

Oscar clumsily straightened out, wormed down under the covers and was asleep again within seconds. Sleep was a heavy warmth that dragged him down, stealing the strength from his body.

 

_A/N: probably slightly inspired by this other modern au fic where Oscar and Solaire are apartment building neighbors_

[Something to Do with Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506585/chapters/17063928)


	2. You Might (Not?) Be Overreacting

Oscar didn’t wake again until a loud guitar riff intruded into his consciousness. Something nearby flailed around, Solaire said “aaargh” and an arm slapped across his chest. The noise continued and seemed to be getting louder. Oscar nestled deeper into the covers, not really caring.

Something heavy and Solaire-shaped flopped across him, knocked several objects off the bedside table, and snagged the phone. The noise stopped.

“Forgot to turn that off, sorry. Oscar?”

“Mmhmm.” Oscar was already on his way back to sleep. Solaire straightened himself and placed a hand on the blanket over Oscar.

“Oscar. You’re burning up, I can feel it right through the blanket.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Oscar woke up slightly. No. Nope. Hospital bad. Solaire still didn’t realize and he doubted that he was coherent enough to tell him at the moment but it was very important he didn’t take him to the hospital. All this time, he’d been careful not to let anyone see the Darksign, he’d invented excuses to avoid checkups, he’d even given a few bribes, he’d worn his full uniform constantly rather than risk the Darksign being visible through a white shirt. He wasn’t going to be found out now just because of some carelessness.

“No,” he said. “No, nope. I don’t.”

Solaire touched his forehead. “Then get up, we need to cool you down somehow.”

Oscar groaned.

“Five minutes?”

Solaire stood and yanked the covers back with a brisk jerk that sent them sailing into the far corner of the room. The cool air did feel rather refreshing.

“Rise! Come on, I’m getting really worried. You sure you don’t—”

“No. I’ll be fine.” he slithered out of bed and onto the floor, where he fell to his knees. He rested there for a few moments, just breathing, then straightened up and looked at Solaire. “...What?”

“You’re _not_ okay.” Oscar shrugged and cough-laughed. “Tell you what, let’s take your temperature and if it’s dangerous you’re going to the hospital.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“We’ll see, come on.” Solaire went into another room, which turned out to be the bathroom, and clattered around in a drawer looking for something. Oscar followed him slowly and reached the door just as Solaire held aloft a thermometer. “Ah-hah! Stick this under your tongue.” Oscar obliged and sat down on the toilet to wait. Solaire turned the water on and splashed at it, testing it.

Again, that feeling of falling, of greyness. He knew he was sitting still, but he felt himself dropping. Distantly, he wondered if this was anything like going hollow.

The thermometer beeped, and Solaire snatched it out of his mouth. “Dear gods!”

“What is it?” Oscar began to struggle with his sweat-soaked shirt.

“104.6. You’re taking a cold shower and if you don’t get better in the next couple of hours you’re going to the hospital.”

Oscar’s mind was hazy. He pulled his shirt off over his head and touched the brand over his heart.

“That’s really not a good idea,” he said. Solaire, still squinting at the thermometer in disbelief, looked down at him and appeared to take several seconds to process what he saw.

“..Ah.” he knelt. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I was going to do it earlier, but there wasn’t a good time and then I forgot. Couldn’t do it before I got back, communication is monitored on the ship—oof.” Solaire pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you have to bear this burden,” he said, “but glad that we have each other. Is that selfish?”

“No. Me too.” Oscar hugged him back.

“Good.” Solaire squeezed him tightly and let him go. “So, no hospital for you.”

“Nope. Unless you never want to see me again.”

“Alright, you get in the shower and I’ll go buy some aspirin, you’ll get through this.”

“I’m kind of peeved honestly.”

“About the Darksign? I can understand—”

“I’m a fucking zombie now, right? So I shouldn’t get sick, right? Zombies don’t get the flu, or whatever the hell this is. I feel like I’ve been ripped off, Sunny.”

“...That is the first time I have ever heard you swear.”

Oscar shrugged. “Deployment does things to you.”

“Get in the shower before your brain melts! And don’t stand up, either, I don’t want to find you on the floor with a concussion when I get back!” Solaire turned the shower on, removed the showerhead and laid it on the bottom of the tub. “There. Don’t make fast movements. I’ll be right back!” he zoomed out before Oscar could say anything else.

The water wasn’t ice-cold, but it still wasn’t close to what Oscar would consider comfortable shower temperature. Part of him recognized this, but the cold water coursing down his skin didn’t feel bad, only pleasantly refreshing, despite the little chills it sent through him.

He brought his hand under the stream of water falling from his chin and found it was warm from his skin. Fascinated, he ran his hand under the warm water falling from his body, then the cold water coming out of the showerhead, then across his hot face. It had been a while since he’d had a fever this high. Not that it had never happened before, Oscar got sick easily, but he’d had a good few years, with easy access to treatment when he did get sick and no need to do anything drastic.

He was still spraying himself with the water when he heard the front door slam, followed by the annoying sound of flip-flops flapping across the room. Solaire knocked on the door.

“Oscar?”

“Yep!”

“Not dead yet? You sound a little better.”

“Just a bit. Hey, you should see this, the water coming off my skin is like, really hot, it’s so weird.”

“That does not make me feel better! Come out and take an aspirin! Wait, let me get you some clothes.”

“I have clothes.”

“ _Clean_ clothes!” the flip-flops flopped away. Oscar craned his face into the water, reluctant to leave it. But he was feeling better. More clearheaded, less like he was floating down an undersea current with everything blurred, hazy colors and echoing sound. “Clothing is here! I’m just gonna toss it in okay?”

“Thanks!” The door half-opened and a bundle sailed through the air, landing on the tile near the tub. Oscar shut the water off.

“Don’t fall!” shouted Solaire through the door. “Move slowly!”

“Sure, mom.” Oscar started to stand up, slipped, and flopped over the side of the tub, landing on his chest on the tiles with a wet _smack_ that he felt through his lungs.

“OSCAR! OSCAR ARE YOU OKAY!”

“Yes.”

“DID YOU FALL!”

“Yes but only two inches. Congratulations, you were right all along. I’m alright.”

“I KNEW IT!! DO YOU NEED HELP?”

“No! I’m fine!”

“Okay! I’m going to stay right here, anyway, just call if you need anything!”

Oscar chuckled, scooted up to a sitting position and yanked down a towel from the rack, dropping it around his shoulders and drying his face with the ends. Then he pawed the bundle closer and inspected it. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Solaire had managed to dig up clothes that he could actually wear, and that were similar to his usual style. Sweatpants and a dark purple shirt. He pulled the pants on and reeled the drawstring out until they felt like they were tight enough not to end up around his ankles as soon as he stood up. The shirt was soft and oversized, but not too much so. He wrapped his arms around himself and breathed in. It smelled like... peppermint? Peppermint and something sweeter, like straw.

“OSCAR ARE YOU OKAY??”

“Yep, fine! I’m coming out now.”

“Grab the thermometer on your way out!” Oscar opened the door with the thermometer in his mouth. “Oh you look far better. I was worried.”

“Hmmrph.”

“Come sit down.” Solaire escorted him to the couch and whisked off to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and a pill. He sat down to wait for the thermometer to finish calculating.

Oscar was having an odd experience. He was breathing slowly and deeply, each breath pressing back against a great weight that seemed to lie on his body. He felt his surroundings were separated from him by muffling water.

But he was alert enough to consciously ponder this, so that was an improvement.

The thermometer beeped. He took it out of his mouth and looked at it.

“103.2.”

“That’s slightly better. Here.” Oscar took the pill. “How do you feel, do you want to go back to sleep?”

“I feel sort of.. neutral. Like I don’t need to sleep, but if I stay up, I won’t be entirely awake.” Solaire gave him a questioning look. “I’m just kinda semiconscious right now.” Oscar made spacey motions with his hands. “It’s really chill.” Solaire looked at him with concern. “No, really. Like that’s the one good part of being sick. It’s... it kind of feels like you’re slowly drowning, but super chill. Like, far under water.” Solaire looked even more concerned. “It’s fine. It’s a high fever thing, I’m used to it. I’ve been sick before, I always get better. Honestly I’m just enjoying the chill-ness.”

“You’d think a Marine would be at least slightly healthier.”

“Joining the military doesn’t magically grant you a less shitty immune system my bro.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“What, because I said shitty?” Oscar repeated the spacey hand motions. “I’m too fever-high to care. Oh. Oh that was a pun. That was a really shitty pun. Haha.”

Solaire frowned thoughtfully at him.

“Why don’t you stay here?”

“Wh... huh?” Oscar realized suddenly that he hadn’t even considered what he was going to do next. “Uh, now that you mention it, I should probably get out, huh? Haha.”

“No, that is the opposite of what you should do. Unless you have somewhere else in this town which is as comfortable, pleasant and conducive to health as my apartment is, which I very much doubt.”

“I mean, no, but—”   
“All the food’s vegan, sorry, but I think you can deal with that for a few days. Wait, I’ve still got some pizza from the party, we could warm that up if nothing else appeals.”

“I... Sounds great. Are you sure? I don’t—”

“If you’re about to ask if I mind don’t be ridiculous! Getting used to living in a new apartment all alone is always depressing, I’d be glad of the company! And besides, I’d worry about you otherwise!”

Oscar grinned. “Alright, I’ll stay. Thank you. I really don’t feel like walking back to the hotel.”

“Hotel!” spat Solaire. “Hotels are one of the most depressing environments I know of, no wonder you got sick!”

“I don’t mind them. And I was already getting sick on the way here, I think.”

“And you’d be all alone!”

“I’d be fine, I’m probably just going to sleep all day.”

“You can do that here. Actually, I could go pick your stuff up if you want, where are you staying?”

“Solaire, you are literally the best human being I have ever met.”

“I’m your sunbro! Sunbros protect and aid!”

Oscar laughed, leaning his head back against the couch. “Thank you.”

“I was going to go on a run and do some errands anyway! Think you’ll be alright for a while?”

“Uh-huh. Really, thank you.” Oscar was rummaging confusedly in his pockets, which were larger than he remembered them being. Solaire watched him for a few moments, waiting for the moment of realization to strike. It did not.

“..Oscar?”

“Yeah?”

“Those are not your pants.”

“What?!” Oscar looked down in utter confusion. “...Oh! Oh.”

Ten minutes later, he’d retrieved his wallet with his room card from his other pants and Solaire had disappeared, leaving him instructions to take his temperature regularly and get in a cold bath if it started to rise. He lay down and let himself fall into a pleasant haze, not quite asleep, but going long stretches without a single thought.


	3. Honey and Chicken

The rest of the day probably passed, though he didn’t much notice. Solaire periodically brought him food, which he tried to eat. He wasn’t hungry, but he made himself drink whatever beverages Solaire brought him because Solaire had a point about needing to stay hydrated (and also Oscar had a feeling he wasn’t going to shut up about it if he was afraid Oscar wasn’t drinking enough.)  
“By the way, I called your mom,” Solaire told him while he was picking at dinner. “Earlier when you were resting. Just wanted to let her know you were here and you were alright, well, sort of alright.”  
“Mm. Really?”  
“Yeah. She was... I don’t know, it felt like a really awkward conversation and I couldn’t pin why. She didn’t really seem worried about you, but she kept wanting to know why I’d called.” Solaire frowned, thinking. “She doesn’t think we’re dating, does she?”  
Oscar smiled.  
“Don’t think so. She was probably trying to figure out whether you knew about the Darksign.”  
“Oh! Oh you’re right, that was probably it. Well I’m glad she knows, anyway, you shouldn’t keep these secrets from your family.”  
“Pfft!” Oscar snorted.  
“...What?”  
“Nothing. I mean, yeah, I told them. Doesn’t mean we all agreed on how I should deal. We kind of had a fight over it.”  
“Oh. I’m sorry. Is that why you were here and not with them?”  
“Nah I wanted to come anyway. But it was a motivation to get out of the house sooner.”

On day two, his fever hovered at a steady 103.1. Rather than bother with opening his bag he changed back into the clothes he’d been wearing when he came, which Solaire had washed. He was a little more alert, but still felt unreasonably heavy. He lay in bed watching the sunlight flicker on the walls, his mind still hazy with fever, remembering the heavy fatigue of sunburn on a summer day long ago when he passed out in the backseat of Solaire’s mom’s van. He half-woke when the car stopped moving and a current of air spiked with ozone drifted through, forerunner of an encroaching storm. He saw a single cloud like a huge mountain standing far off in the air, and from somewhere, they were surrounded by thunder. The air outside the car was bright liquid. He closed his eyes again, feeling safe and warm and unwilling to move, and Solaire’s mom came and woke him gently. “Are you doing okay, honey? Your eyes look bright green.”  
That interested him enough to make him get up, go inside and find a mirror. They were green, bottle-glass-green and bloodshot. He’d never seen them that color before. He’d never had anyone call him honey before either, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Half uncomfortable, half like he wanted to nestle up close to her and go back to sleep.

By early afternoon he was feeling a little better, and tired enough of lying in one place that he got up and walked slowly through into the main room. Solaire was in the kitchen with his back to him, singing Colors of the Wind.

As he came in, Solaire turned towards him and smiled, and his singing decreased dramatically in volume to the end of the line, where he stopped.

"You're up!"

"Hey." Oscar was about to say something about the song, but his attention was drawn to the object on the table. A large raw chicken which Solaire was sectioning. ".... What is that?"

"A chicken!"

"I—yeah, I can see that, but why?"

"Because I bought it?" Oscar looked at him in confusion. "I'm making soup!"

"You're vegan."

"Yes, and you're not, correct?"

"... Solaire. You bought me an entire chicken?" Solaire dropped the chicken quarter he'd been holding onto the cutting board. It made an unpleasant raw meat squishing sound.

"Yes, Oscar, I did, because you haven't eaten anything for two days and I'm getting worried."

"It hasn't been--well, _almost_ two days, but I've been eating!" Solaire held up one finger, walked to the garbage can and retrieved a piece of stale toast with one corner nibbled off.

Oscar glared at the toast.

“What’s it look like did this?” Solaire continued. “ A mouse? No, it was an Oscar.”

“I wasn’t hungry this morning because I ate the applesauce.”

“You ate about two bites of the applesauce.”

Oscar had to admit that was fair.

"I just don't feel like eating. But you didn't have to buy me a chicken."

"It’s a free-range, antibiotic free chicken and it’s good for you!”

“What.”

“You can’t get better if your body doesn’t have what it needs. Will you promise to drink some of the broth?"

"I promise."

"Good, now stop worrying about it."

"Alright. Thank you--"

"What do you want in it? I could do like a Campbell's type thing, or I could make a type of Chinese medicinal broth."

"I... Whatever."

"Can I put ginger in it?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

"Excellent." Solaire plunked chicken bones into a pot of water, humming happily. "Oscar?"

"Yeah?"

"What color are your eyes?"

"Grey."

"I thought so! Blue-grey."

"Why?"

"Well, right now they look kind of green."

"Really? That happens sometimes."

"Interesting! They were very green yesterday, I meant to bring it up but I was preoccupied."

“Huh. I think it’s something that happens when I get very sick.”

It was comforting to know there was something that hadn’t been changed by his becoming Undead. Well. Something about himself he didn’t mind, at least, unlike his immune system.  

There was some itch at the back of his mind—something he’d been meaning to say and had forgotten multiple times already. He stood there angrily trying to remember it while Solaire threw things into the pot to simmer.

“Oh yeah,”  said Oscar. his voice sounded like the grave. He paused and cleared his throat. “On the subject of stuff we meant to bring up but didn’t. Was I hallucinating from fever, or were you playing the Skyrim song at like two in the morning the night of the party?”

Solaire thought for a moment and then laughed.

“We were! Did it wake you up? I’m sorry, it is a very exuberant song.”

“Not really, no, I was just kind of... vaguely aware of dragon chanting. I was very confused.”

“Ha! Well you never know what a party’s going to be like later in the night, it all depends on which people leave and which people stay and whether there’s been alcohol and how much, all sorts of factors. This time what the party evolved into was a huge nerdfest. It was great. These two guys had a Magic duel, turns out they’re both like regional—”

“They what now?? There was a sorcerer fight?”

“Huh? Oh, no no no! Magic: The Gathering, you know, the card game? Not actual magic.”

“Oh! Right, that’s a thing!” Oscar giggled. “See for a minute there I was imagining you had sorcerers firing soul arrows at each other from opposite ends of your living room.”

“Oh goodness no! That would be terrible!”

“I’m sick.” Oscar tapped his head, made swirling motions with his hand and laughed. "Anyway, since when can you sing? I never knew you could sing."

"Oh, forever, I guess? I'm not trained or anything, but I can generally hit the notes."

"Yeah, you hit the notes pretty good."

"Why thank you!"

"Do you ever do karaoke?"

 "Absolutely! Was thinking of doing it at the party but no one was interested and also you were sleeping." Oscar smiled. Of course Solaire would phrase it so he wouldn't feel responsible.

"Sounds fun. Hope I get to see that one day."

"What?"

Oscar laughed. "You singing Colors of the Wind. I never knew you liked Disney songs, either."

Solaire spun around, beaming. "Oh really? You want to do that now?"

What now? "Ah... Sure!"

Solaire, still grinning, herded him into the living room and pointed at the couch. OK, it seemed like they were, in fact, doing this now. Oscar blinked several times, trying to feel more awake.  

Solaire was bringing up YouTube on the TV.

"What about you Oscar? Do you sing?"

"Occasionally. What are the stakes?"

"My happiness!"

"Oh no. I guess you'll have to hear me croak then."

"I'll take a karaoke IOU if you're not feeling melodious at the moment."

"Good."

Solaire undid his ponytail and shook his hair out over his shoulders. As an instrumental-only version of Colors of the Wind started playing he looked around and snatched up a vase from the table. Oscar, pleasantly submerged under a mild fever haze on the couch, couldn't quite comprehend why Solaire was brandishing a vase until he began singing into it. He was using it as a microphone. Oscar cracked up. He couldn't help it. He was grinning and laughing and he just hopped Solaire could tell it was happy, supportive laughter and not 'you're an idiot' laughter. He seemed to, because he was still grinning and he kept singing at the top of his lungs. Oscar sat with his arms over the back of the couch, shaking with laughter, unable to breathe.

Solaire was an excellent singer. And he put his whole self into it, stepping around the room and gesturing with the assurance of someone who has the video memorized. Oscar couldn't believe he'd lived his life until now not knowing Solaire could be like this. Had he always loved Disney movies? Was there a reason they’d never talked about it? Was it because he was afraid Oscar would think it was dumb? Had he been a bad friend? He hadn't been as supportive of Solaire as he could have been when he was discovering himself; Oscar had been at an awkward age himself and any change of the status quo made him uncomfortable. When Solaire bounced up to him one day with his hair grown out and pulled back into a short brush of a ponytail, Oscar hadn’t known how to react except by grabbing the little brush, saying “beep boop” and yanking it. The tie came out and Solarie was annoyed. So naturally he kept doing it and it turned into a running gag (Solaire’s retaliation was to tuck Oscar’s head under his armpit for a few seconds.)

Solaire finished the first verse, kicked off his flip-flops and danced around the room. "Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest!" Oscar, still unable to breathe from laughter, felt like he was suffocating and didn't mind.

He thought he'd be able to stop his conniptions when the song ended, but instead they intensified until he was near-silently crying from laughter. His chest ached.

"Oscar?" Said Solaire, shifting out of the Take My Hand gesture he'd ended in. Oscar held up his hand and continued choking.

"Ican'tbreathe," he said in a small voice. He wheezed. "That was the best thing I have seen, ever."

Solaire's smile was like the sun. "Really!"

Oscar draped his head over the back of the couch and made an air-deprived screeching noise.

"Yes!"

Solaire's response was cut short by a knock from the door.

"Oh—hold on." He slipped back into his flip-flops and flopped to the door. It struck Oscar suddenly that Solaire should just be barefoot. Flip-flops were annoying but being a barefoot wild man suited him. Unfortunately, flip-flops were slightly more socially acceptable. Goddamn societal norms.

Behind him he heard Solaire open the door. "Aaah Pate!"

"Afternoon. You having a concert in there?"

Oscar slid off the couch and came towards the door. Solaire was in the open doorway speaking to a bald man, who had a polite, but calculating look, eyes slightly narrowed. He struck Oscar at once as a perfect archetype of That One Neighbor That Nobody Gets Along With, but Solaire greeted him like a close friend. Then again, Solaire greeted everyone who wasn't currently trying to murder him as a close friend.

"Did we bother you?" said Solaire.

"Mmmm," said Pate, looking around Solaire at Oscar. "Well, no, I just wondered if this is going to be a regular thing."

"I am sorry, I didn't think about how loud it was."

"No, no, everyone makes noise now and then, but here's the thing, you had the party Saturday, and now you're breaking the sound barrier with whatever that was. It's only been a few days. I don't mind, personally, it's just that I don't want people to get tired of you, which they will if you keep on like this. Most of us in this building get along and I'd like to see that continue."

"Absolutely! Thank you for reminding me, I'll try to be more considerate in the future."

"Ah, you are the most considerate of men."

"Thank you! Oscar, this is Pate, Pate, Oscar."

"A pleasure," purred Pate as Oscar started towards them.

Pate was standing with one foot crossed behind the other and a shoulder leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets, and he watched Oscar approach with the same superficially friendly, calculating gaze. He wore a tan leather jacket, very worn but of fine quality, over dark clothes. Oscar decided abruptly that the man was a con artist.

"Same," he nodded coolly.

Pate withdraw a hand from his pocket and offered it to him, but before he could respond several things happened at once. A faint "ye bastard!!" drifted down the hall, Pate looked over his shoulder, and then quick as a snake striking he'd turned, produced a hidden handgun from somewhere under the jacket and was aiming it down the hall, screaming "I won't hesitate bitch!!" Solaire, only slightly slower, shrieked and grappled at his arm, forcing the gun down to point at the floor. Pate's expression shifted from one of cold defiance to alarm and he struggled uselessly against Solaire's grip, shouting "Hey!--get off me, the man's a psychopath! He'll kill us both!" Oscar stepped out into the hallway to see what was going on, and at a warning shout from Solaire, turned to look down the hallway in the opposite direction. There was a man bearing down on him, less than ten feet away. He was wearing a leather jacket similar in both quality and wear to Pate's, but it was black; he wore a surgical mask and a black beanie pulled low over his eyes so that his glittering eyes were all Oscar could really see of his face, hard and clear like blue stones. Wild white hair, escaping from under the hat, fell almost to his shoulders. Oscar took all this in in a flash, but what really impressed itself on him was that Solaire was now shouting at him to get back inside, and that the man still running full-speed at him was brandishing what looked like a fire axe.

 

**A/N: Swear to God I thought of it on my own, before finding[this goddamn picture](https://sta.sh/0g44d4ir26k) and nearly dying because what the hell that’s exactly what I was planning except my Pate is less fluffy ashldfgdjf**

**Oh, on the eye thing! Inspired by true events. Which happened to me. I normally have blue-grey-green eyes, not much green, but a couple times when I was in physical distress I've noticed that they objectively looked just outright green, weirdest thing.  
I'm really steamed because I HAD a picture of the last time it happened but now I can't find it **

**On Oscar’s family drama: the trouble is he’s a paladin in a family of rogues.**

**Solaire bought the least ethically offensive chicken he could find, I think like three-quarters of the reason he’s vegan is because he objects to the horrible mess that is the modern meat industry**

**And, my friend FollowerofMercy pointed out something very important about the last chapter:**  
**OSCAR ARE YOU OKAY ARE YOU OKAY OSCAR**  
**YOU’VE BEEN HIT BY**  
**YOU’VE BEEN STRUCK BY**  
**A**  
**SMOOTH**  
**tile floor**


End file.
